


so many walls up (i can't break through)

by favowiteperson



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Requited Love, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, a lil bit, the timeline is... all over the place forgive me, this started as an eddie character study and turned into 8k of reddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favowiteperson/pseuds/favowiteperson
Summary: “I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Eddie says, and longs for a world where there would be a right time to tell Richie. A world where he could tell Richie at all.“It’s okay,” Richie says, “I’ll wait.”And something about his voice makes Eddie believe that he will.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 158





	so many walls up (i can't break through)

When Eddie was seven years old, he fell off his bicycle face-first onto the sidewalk, chipping his front tooth. His mother had lectured him time and time again about the dangers of riding his bike, making him promise that he would always wear his helmet and never bike too fast. And for the most part, Eddie followed these rules; always securing his helmet tight under his chin and never pedaling too quickly. But sometimes he got tired of always falling behind his friends when they biked together, or he found himself with so much energy pent up in his little body that he just had to expel it by pedaling harder, flying down the sidewalk. It was one of those times when he left Bill’s house after a day of playing on the other boys' new trampoline. He was speeding down the street on his way back to his house when his front tire caught on a rock and he went flying over the handlebars. His sturdy helmet blocked the worst of the damage, but his chin still hit the concrete hard enough for Eddie to feel a crunch as his jaw clicked shut. When he got home, his mother had screamed her head off about exposed enamel and bacteria and diseases, and by the time they reached the dentist she was talking about how Eddie was never going to recover, she was sure of it. This was something that Eddie was already used to. It seemed to him like his mother was always convinced that Eddie had a cold, or a fever, or was looking a little pale, which always ended up with her deciding that Eddie needed to be taken to the doctor immediately. Eddie’s not sure he can remember a time that he wasn’t sick. Although, he never really felt as sick as his mother said he is, and the doctor always sent him home saying he’s completely fine, much to the chagrin of his mother. The same is the case for the chipped tooth. The dentist put a false cap on his tooth and told him he’d be fine. It was as good as new, they told him. And sure, it looked like nothing had happened. The dentist had done a great job; the tooth cap looked just like his real tooth had. It looked real, but it wasn’t. Eddie found himself running his tongue over the cap for the next few weeks. Something about it made him uneasy. 

That, in retrospect, was probably where it all started.

  
  


—

  
  


Eddie’s whole life changes the day he finds out about his medication. His allergy medicine, his pills, even his inhaler. All of it. It’s all fake. The thought of it makes him want to throw up. Not only was his mother completely fine with lying to him for his entire life, but he missed out on so many things. He could have run with the other kids during gym class with no fears about an asthma attack, or played with the losers in the tall grasses in Mike’s farm instead of sitting out so as to not trigger his allergies. His allergies that never existed. He feels like he’s had his life stolen from him. He feels lost, confused, and so damn angry. He thinks back on all the times his mother had lied right to his face with zero remorse. It’s that thought that makes Eddie grab all of his medication and shove the various bottles and containers in his fanny pack before clipping it around his waist and rushing out the door. He hops onto his bike and pushes off, pedaling towards the quarry. The cold Derry air bites at his face as he lets his bike coast down the sidewalk, trying to clear his mind and not think about how most of his life is a lie. It doesn’t work.

When he arrives he stumbles off the bike, unclipping his fanny pack as he makes his way to the cliff edge overlooking the quarry. He unzips the fanny pack and looks through all of the medication. Allergy pills, hay fever treatment, his inhaler, even an EpiPen. He stuffs everything back inside the fanny pack. And then, before he can think too hard about it, he steps forward and flings it off the edge of the cliff. It hits the water with a loud splash, and Eddie leans over to watch it sink. The sight of it makes Eddie’s breathing quicken, and he almost reaches for his inhaler before he remembers it’s currently at the bottom of the quarry. He coaches himself through a few deep breaths and briefly wonders if Richie still carries a spare inhaler in his backpack, but quickly pushes the thought away. He doesn’t need it, he reminds himself. He never did. 

A pill bottle floats to the surface of the quarry. Eddie stares at it for a while, watching it bob around as the wind ripples across the water. 

Eddie suddenly feels seven years old again, running his tongue along his front tooth, and he wonders how much of him has to become fake before he’s not Eddie Kaspbrak anymore. 

  
  


—

Eddie tries not to lie to his mother, he really does. He knows that her smothering of him is really just because she loves and cares about him, and he knows that he should respect her. But after he breaks his arm in Neibolt house, she forbids him completely from seeing any of his friends. Even Richie. Especially Richie. And, well, Eddie never expected to reach a point in his life where not seeing Richie goddamn Tozier would make his heart feel like it’s splitting in two, but he didn’t think he’d be fighting a killer clown at any point either, and here he is. And god, not seeing Richie really does make Eddie’s chest feel like an empty cavern of what it once was, and he knows, he just  _ knows _ the reason why. And despite knowing that reason, and knowing the feelings behind it are something that he shouldn’t be feeling, he also knows that he has to find a way to see Richie soon or he’s going to go insane. With it being the holidays he doesn’t even have the excuse of school to see him, so he has to resort to other methods. Which leads Eddie to where he is now, in the living room, trying to convince his mother that he’s going to a book club at the Derry library. 

“Mommy, I promise I’ll only be a few hours!” Eddie pleads, even attempting to pull the puppy dog eyes, which don’t seem to work on his mother. He huffs. They always work on Richie. 

“I don’t know, sweetie.” Eddie’s mother says, looking at him skeptically. “Are you sure those so-called ‘friends’ of yours won't be there? You know what happened last time you were with them.” 

“They won’t be there.” Eddie lies. “Most of them have left town for summer vacations anyway.”

This seems to do the trick, as his mother gives a slight approving nod of the head and sighs a little in resignation. 

“Okay, but make sure you’re back before curfew,” She says, “I mean it! You know how I worry, Eddie-bear.” 

“I know, mom,” Eddie says, already rushing to grab his backpack and leave before she changes her mind. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.” 

It’s not until Eddie is out the door that he realizes he hasn't told the truth once today.

He pushes back the uncomfortable feeling that makes a home in his chest at the realization and focuses on the task at hand. Hitching his backpack higher on his shoulders, he glances back at the window to check if his mother is watching him leave. Sure enough, he catches a glimpse of his mother peering between the curtains at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Before she can follow him outside with questions of what's taking him so long he wheels his bicycle away from where it’s leaning against the fence and heads off in the direction of the library. Then, when he’s positive he’s out of his mother's line of sight, he makes a hard left and sets off towards Stan’s house. 

Stan’s house had been elected the new hangout spot for days where it was too cold for the Barren’s or the quarry for many different reasons. For one, it was the middle point between all of their houses, meaning none of them had to travel very far to reach it, aside from Mike who still had to travel all the way out from the farm, but still did it without complaint to see his friends, something that made Eddie’s heart very warm. Secondly, Stan’s parents were pretty relaxed about a bunch of kids hanging around in their house, and were some of the only people in all of Derry that not only tolerated Richie but actually seemed to like him. Lastly, and most importantly, Stan had a  _ huge _ basement. It used to hold several miscellaneous items that the Uris family didn’t want on display, but after a lot of begging — mainly from Richie while Stan stood behind him and half-heartedly nodded — the basement was cleared out. The old skateboards and bicycles were moved to the outside shed, the old menorahs and Hanukkah decorations were moved to the attic, and Stan and the losers were given complete control of the basement. Ben immediately jumped into action with ideas of how to make it the perfect space for them, and the others followed suit. It took them a solid three days of cleaning and smuggling beanbags and cushions from their own homes, but finally the basement was, in Eddie’s opinion, one of the coolest places he’s ever seen. So when Eddie finally arrives at Stan's place he wastes no time getting to the basement, rushing through the polite greetings with Stan’s parents when they let him in the house and taking the stairs to the basement two at a time. He opens the door to find all of the losers already there, sprawled around the room as Bill tells some story that Eddie barely catches the gist of before Richie is cutting him off. 

“Spaghetti! What took you so long?” Richie cries.

“My mom didn’t want to let me go,” Eddie says, hopping down the stairs to join the others. “And don’t call me that.”

Despite the biting words, Eddie proceeds to flops down on the available cushion next to Richie 

And promptly rests his head on Richie’s lap.

He’s not sure why he does it, but after arguing with his mom all day, and his miniature identity crisis earlier, something about seeing Richie, all soft eyes and wide smiles, made his brain short circuit and decide that he needs to be as close to the source of comfort as possible. They’ve always been tactile with each other, grabbing each other’s hands and leaning on each other, and Eddie is  _ tired _ , damn it. 

It’s not weird, Eddie reasons with himself. If it was weird, Richie wouldn’t have dropped a hand down to ruffle Eddie’s hair. 

The other losers don’t acknowledge it either, aside from a brief glance shared between Stan and Mike, and the conversation picks up where it left off.

“Okay, now that Eddie’s here we can keep playing,” Beverly says. “Richie, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.” Richie says, much to Eddie’s surprise.

Clearly, Eddie isn’t the only one caught off guard by Richie’s answer, because Beverly furrows her eyebrows in thought as Stan says, “What, not a dare this time?”

“You guys always dare me to do intense physical labor to fuel your sick fantasies, and I for one am  _ tired _ of it,” Richie complains, gesturing wildly. 

“Drinking hot sauce is your idea of intense physical labor?” Stan says. “That explains a lot.”

“No, dickwad. I’m sick of streaking down the street or ding dong ditching the neighbor’s house, and I know for a fact that you fucks can’t come up with a more creative dare than that.” Richie says. “And as you can see, I have this little cutie on me. I can’t possibly move from this spot now.”

Eddie feels warmth flow into his cheeks as Richie drops a hand to Eddie’s head to ruffle his hair again.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbles half-heartedly. In all honesty, the thought of Richie choosing truth for the first time in god knows how long just so he won’t disturb Eddie is making his chest feel funny. 

“It’s like when a cat sits on you,” Richie says to nobody in particular. “If Eddie chooses you for a napping spot, you legally aren’t allowed to move.”

“I can respect that.” Mike chimes in.

“My boy Mike gets it!” Richie crows, and Beverly shakes her head fondly.

“Okay, truth it is.” 

Beverly screws up her nose in thought, and Eddie curses his anxiety at the way he gets second hand nervous for Richie.

“Who do you like?” Beverly asks.

Eddie can feel Richie freeze up for a split second, his body going rigid beneath Eddie. But then Richie takes a breath and deliberately relaxes his body again. It’s an almost imperceptible sequence of events, but it still shakes Eddie to his core. Just for a moment, Eddie thinks maybe he’s not the only one with something to hide.

“Why’d you choose a question such as that, Miss Marsh?” Richie crows in one of his ridiculous (fakefakefake) voices. “You looking for a slice of the ol’ Richie Tozier special?”

“Shut up and answer the question, asshole.” Beverly says, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not even sure why you bothered asking,” Richie says, in a more serious voice. “We all know I’m taken.”

“ _ What?! _ ” Eddie splutters, sitting up before he can stop himself. He heard a few other noises of surprise, and as he looks around the other losers all appear to be in similar states of confusion. 

“Yeah, you-” Richie furrows his eyebrows. “You guys didn’t know?”

“ _ No? _ ” Eddie says, trying not to sound too affected. He’s not sure why he  _ is _ so affected. 

“Richie, what the fuck?” Stan says, and yeah, Eddie relates to that one.

“Yeah,” Richie says, “Me and Eddie’s mom are very happy together.”

The room erupts with the sound of six simultaneous sighs of annoyance (Eddie tells himself his is a sigh of annoyance. Definitely not relief.) mixed with the sound of Eddie slapping Richie on the arm.

“You’re so annoying!” Eddie huffs, but he still drops back down so his head is resting on Richie’s lap again, something that Richie looks far too smug about.

“I can’t believe you didn’t see that one coming.” Richie chuckles, and Eddie would normally throw another quip back at him, but his sense of relief is too all-consuming for him to do much more than give Richie a glare. 

On the surface, Eddie’s not sure why he feels so relieved that Richie isn’t dating anyone. Somewhere, deep in his subconscious, he knows exactly why he doesn’t want Richie dating anyone, but that's not something he can think about. Not now, not ever. 

So instead he pushes the feeling down and closes his eyes again, enjoying the sounds of his friends' voices as they bicker back and forth. At some point during the conversation, Richie’s hand drops down to Eddie’s head again and starts gently carding through it. Eddie almost startles at the contact but he catches himself at the last second, and manages to not outwardly react. Internally, however, his body is going haywire. Because Richie is  _ touching _ him, and not in the casual roughhousing way he normally does, but soft and gentle, and Eddie feels like he could  _ explode _ . He wants to lean into the touch, to take Richie’s hand from where it’s now softly brushing hair back from Eddie’s forehead and interlace their fingers, he wants to sit up and kiss Richie square on the mouth, and, and,  _ and- _

Eddie stops that thought right in its tracks the second he feels his breathing begin to quicken — he really doesn’t want to have an asthma attack right now. 

He’s sufficiently distracted from these thoughts, however, when Beverly speaks up.

“Seriously though, Richie,” She says. “You have to answer the truth. Who  _ do _ you like?”

And Eddie thinks for a second that Richie is the one about to have an asthma attack with the way he can feel the other boys breathing quicken. 

“Uh- nobody.” Richie says, but his voice cracks and it’s clear that he’s not about to fool anyone.

“Richie.” Beverly says, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay,” Richie relents, furrowing his eyebrows in thought. “It’s uhh… Olivia from chemistry class?”

Eddie feels the air leave his lungs. 

“Are you asking us?” Stan says. “Why are you saying it like a question?”

“No,” Richie says, leg shaking nervously beneath Eddie’s head. “It’s definitely her.”

The other losers shrug, nod, and move on with the game, but Eddie feels like the world has frozen in place. Tears burn behind his eyes, his chest aches, and his stomach feels like a black hole, and he wonders how he never knew emotions could be this strong. He wants to scream, to cry, to grab Richie and kiss him until they both lose their breath.

But instead, Eddie has to pretend he doesn’t care. And that, by far, is the hardest thing he’d ever had to fake. 

—

  
  


When they’re fifteen, Richie gets braces. He comes back from his dentist appointment with two rows of metal and bright blue gems on his teeth. They’re bulky, dorky, and almost obnoxious as Richie himself. Eddie  _ loves _ them. Maybe it’s the way the gems glint in the sunlight whenever Richie smiles, or the way they make the boy look like even more of a dork in combination with his enormous glasses and patterned button ups. But what really gets Eddie is the lisp. Something in the size and positioning of the braces make it extremely difficult for Richie to pronounce any words containing the letter ‘S’, and it’s possibly the most endearing thing Eddie has ever heard. He’s not sure why he finds this new look for Richie so cute, but the way he feels about Richie has never been entirely clear, so he does his best not to dwell on it. 

It’s about a week after Richie gets his braces that Eddie notices something is wrong. It first happens one summer afternoon at the Barrens. The losers are all taking advantage of the cold stream of water that runs through the Barrens, with Beverly, Bill, and Mike wading out into the deepest part of the water; Stan, Ben, and Eddie only venturing as far as knee depth; and Richie splashing back and forth between the two groups, getting everyone significantly more drenched than they wanted to be. This continues for a few minutes before Eddie finally snaps.

“Richie! If you splash me one more time I am going to drown you!” He huffs, tossing a pebble in the other boys general direction.

“You wouldn’t, Eddie!” Richie cries, dramatically clutching his chest. 

“Don’t call me-” Eddie starts, before trailing off in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. “Wait, why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Richie shoots back, now looking confused himself.

“You called me Eddie.” 

A look of realisation spreads across Richie’s face and he looks away, eyes shifting nervously. 

“You’re asking why I called you by your own name?” He asks.

“But you always call me…” Eddie hesitates. “Never mind.” 

Eddie tosses a pebble to Richie, which the other boy reflexively catches. 

“Bet you I can skip my rock further than yours.” Eddie says. 

“You’re on.” Richie says, smiling gratefully. A closed mouth smile.

...

Eddie reaches his breaking point a few weeks later, when he and Richie are walking back from Bill’s house. The losers club had all gathered there together for a game of Monopoly that ended up running later than intending due to an untruthful banker (Stan), the throwing of some game pieces (Richie), and the general chaos of their friendship group. Since it had started to get dark outside during the chaos of the game, Richie had insisted on walking Eddie home despite the other boys (half-hearted) protests. They’re cracking jokes and bickering as they stroll down the street, and Eddie makes a comment about one of their school teachers — something about how his hairline is higher than his IQ — that has Richie bursting out into a full out laugh. Getting Richie to genuinely laugh at a joke is a rare occasion, and something that Eddie takes great pride in, half because it makes him feel funny and half because he gets to see Richie laugh, which is possibly one of the most beautiful sights Eddie has ever seen . But today is different. Today, Richie covers his mouth with his hand when he laughs. Eddie stops dead in his tracks, gut twisting uncomfortably at the sight. Richie notices and stops walking too, backtracking a little. 

“Hello?” Richie says, “Why’d you stop walking? I’d offer a piggyback but I think I pulled a muscle last night when I was fucking your mom.” 

“Shut up, Richie.” Eddie fires back. “Just- Shut up. Why did you do that?” 

“Why did I fuck your mom?” Richie questions, his expression a combination of smug and confused. “Well you see when a man and a woman love each other-“ 

“No, not that, you asshole.” Eddie says. “Why did you cover your mouth just now when you laughed?” 

The smugness drops from Richie’s expression and Eddie notices the tips of his ears turning red. 

“I didn’t?” Richie says, but it comes out as a question. 

“You did. You’ve never done that before. Why?” Eddie demands, stepping closer to Richie and narrowing his eyes. 

Richie sighs in defeat. 

“Look, I don’t know if you got the memo, but my mouth is all kinds of jacked up right now.” 

“What do you mean?” Eddie questions with slight panic in his voice, his mind immediately going off on twenty different tangents about mouth diseases and injuries and oh god, what if Richie is going to die? 

“The braces.” Richie clarifies. “I’ve got like five pounds of metal up in there. It’s not the prettiest sight in the world, although some would argue my natural good looks make up for it.” 

It’s an obvious tactic to try and steer the conversation into more familiar, humorous territory, but Eddie is not having any of it. 

“So cover your braces because... you think they’re ugly?” 

“I know they are.” Richie says, in such a matter-of-fact way that Eddie’s heart crumples a little. 

“Okay first of all, jackass, they aren’t ugly, are you kidding me?” Eddie takes another step towards Richie, scrunching up his face in disbelief. “They don’t look bad at all and if I catch you hiding them again I swear- I mean- Even if they did look bad why would you try cover them right now? I’m the only one here, since when did you care what I think?” 

Eddie says it all in one breath, leaving Richie blinking slowly at him as his brain catches up. 

“Eddie-“ Richie starts, only to be immediately cut off. He should have learned by now that even if you think an Eddie rant is over, it’s never really over. 

“There’s that again too!” Eddie says with a frown. “Eddie! You never call me that! What is going on with you?” 

“God, okay!” Richie says, throwing up his hands in defeat. “I’m calling you Eddie because- Do you- Have you heard me when I try to say things now?” 

Eddie just stares at Richie in confusion, and the taller boy rolls his eyes. 

“Edth,” Richie mocks, exaggerating the lisp his braces gives him. “Eddie Thpaghetti. I sound ridiculous!” 

Eddies eyes widen in understanding and he shakes his head rapidly, as if he’s trying to clear it. 

“Hold on, let me get this straight.” Eddie says. “You’ve been purposefully avoiding words with the letter ‘S’ because of your lisp?” 

“Not all the time just- Just when it’s not completely necessary.” Richie says, the blush from his ears spreading across his cheeks. 

“And my name falls under ‘not completely necessary’ to you?” Eddie huffs. 

“Uh... your name is Eddie, not Ed’s. Something you are always quick to remind me.” Richie says, a smile beginning to spread across his face. “Unless... you secretly like my nicknames?” 

It’s now Eddie’s turn to blush as he realises what he just admitted to. 

“I never said I liked them.” Eddie splutters. “It’s- It’s just weird when you stop using them out of nowhere, okay?” 

“Sure…” Richie says, but the teasing doesn’t feel complete without a stupid nickname attached to it. 

“Seriously, Richie,” Eddie says, quickly, before he loses the confidence. “Stop hiding the braces, they’re cute.” 

Richie’s eyes widen behind his glasses and Eddie swears he sees the other boys cheeks get even redder. 

“You think I’m cute?” Richie says, and there’s not a hint of teasing in his voice. It makes Eddies heartbeat stutter in his chest. 

“I said your braces were cute, not you.” Eddie says, and watches in horror as Richie’s face falls oh so slightly. 

“I mean- You suit them.” Eddie rushes to add. “They look good on you. So I guess. You look cute too, y’know, because they’re cute and they’re a part of you and- yeah.” 

Eddie feels his face burning when he finishes, but Richie is staring at him, eyes shining, smiling wider than Eddie has seen him smile in weeks, braces on full display. 

“I knew you thought I was cute! It’s a Kaspbrak family trait!” Richie cries, artfully dodging the shove that Eddie throws his way. 

“Really though.” Richie says, softer, more serious. “Thanks, Eds.” 

They stand there for a moment together, under the glow of the streetlights, not saying anything. Eddie swears he can feel something shift between them. 

And then Richie is throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and steering them both in the direction of Eddie’s house, chatting away about school and video games. 

The word “Ed’s” is still echoing around Eddie’s head, lighting a warmth in his chest that spreads all the way to his fingertips. 

He blushes all the way home.

  
  
  


—

There are some days where Eddie wants to tell Richie. He never seriously considers it, but he  _ wants _ . He wants more than anything to be able to sit down and tell the other boy all of the feelings that are bubbling up inside of him, threatening to overflow. Richie will sit across from him, so close Eddie can almost count all the freckles that decorate his nose and cheeks, and smile that stupid endearing smile as he makes three consequtive bad jokes in the hope he’ll make someone laugh. Because that's what Richie does. He puts on a mask of indifference, all the while making his friends laugh, and checking up on them, and caring so damn much Eddie wonders how nobody else notices. And as Eddie watches him, taking in every curl in his hair, every smudge on his glasses, every bandaid on his leg, he thinks that he loves him. It’s something he’s never allowed himself to think about before, but deep down he always knew it was true. It’s scary, sure, but not as scary as Eddie thought it would be. More than anything, it hurts. He knows that loving Richie is something he can only ever do from afar. The problem is that Richie is  _ loud _ , and Richie and Eddie together are even  _ louder, _ and Eddie isn’t sure he can find a way to love him quietly. But he has to, and he will, and honestly he thinks he’s been doing it for a while now. But every now and then he likes to imagine a world in which he doesn’t have to hide. Where he can kiss each and every one of Richies freckles, and hold his hand walking to class, and tell him that he loves him every day. 

Richie looks up, locking eyes with Eddie, almost as if he can hear his thoughts, and gives him a smile and scrunches up his nose, knocking his glasses askew. Eddie reaches over to fix them, every atom in his body screaming  _ tell him, tell him, tell him _ .

He doesn’t.

Richie thanks Eddie and looks away again, continuing his conversation with Bill, his ears slightly red. A wave of affection washes over Eddie so strongly that he has to remind himself what happens to people like him in Derry. He thinks about the kid that got bullied out of his school last year for holding hands with a boy, he thinks about the signs outside the church about burning in hell, thinks about every insult Bowers has ever flung at him and how very true they all are. So he sits across from Richie and doesn’t say a word.

His mother had always told him that love is between a boy and a girl, and anything else isn’t real. 

Eddie wonders how what he’s feeling right now could be fake. Wonders how a pain like this could be born out of anything other than love. 

—

Sundays with the losers used to be a peaceful time for Eddie, or as peaceful something involving Richie Tozier can be. He always looked forward to a day of lazing around the clubhouse reading comics, or swimming in the quarry, or chatting and playing music from Ben’s old stereo down at the Barren’s, which was what was on the agenda for today. Eddie had been excited when he woke up that morning, getting dressed quickly and grabbing some toast before dodging his mother and biking down to the Barren’s. 

Except, now, well-

“So, h-how's Emily?” Bill teases.

Eddie’s not sure what happened. He never  _ used  _ to lie. But a few days ago, during a gossip session led by Bev in the clubhouse, the losers had been insistent in knowing who Eddie had a crush on, since they had all shared their current ones, and apparently it was unheard of to not have a crush anybody at his age. So Eddie had blurted out the name of a girl from one of his classes, Emily. He had spoken to her approximately three times during the entire course of his schooling life, but she seemed nice and relatively pretty, and at that point Eddie would have said he’d had a crush on his teacher if it meant the others would stop badgering him about it. Because really, he knew exactly who he did have a crush on, and there is absolutely no way he could ever admit to it. And so ever since then, the others have periodically bought up Eddie’s supposed ‘crush’ on some poor girl that Eddie doesn’t even know the last name of, and he doesn’t exactly know what to do. He’s in too deep now to backtrack, and telling everyone that he’s actually crushing on their resident trashmouth is completely out of the question. So instead he just huffs and rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he says, “Why don’t you ask her that?”

“Why don’t  _ you _ ?” Beverly says, smirking. “You should talk to her!”

Eddie glances around at the others, praying that someone,  _ anyone,  _ will change the subject. He would even rather listen to one of Richie’s stupid voices right now, anything to move on from their current conversation, but the other boy has been quiet all day. Instead he looks to Stan, his eyes wide and pleading, and the other boy gives an almost imperceptible nod before yelling, 

“Guys, watch this!” 

And he hurls a rock into the stream, splashing Beverly and Bill, who had been sitting closest to the water. 

There’s a split second of silence at the uncharacteristic display, before everyone bursts into laughter, even Beverly and Bill, as they wipe water from their faces. And, more importantly, even Richie. The taller boy breaks his streak of silence to giggle — fucking giggle, Eddie could seriously die — and warmth floods Eddies body. He drags his eyes away from Richie to shoot Stan a grateful look as the conversation swerves to a different topic. The look Stan gives him in return is full of understanding, something that Eddie both is comforted by and terrified of. He’s just glad that he doesn’t have to talk about his ‘crush’ anymore.

At least, that's what he thought. 

...

As they pack up to leave the Barren’s, Richie pipes up and says that he’ll bike home with Eddie. It’s not too unusual — they live relatively close to each other and have gone home together before — but for some reason Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest. Stan raises an eyebrow at him and Eddie flushes red, turning away and grabbing his bike from the ground, calling out a goodbye to the other losers. 

Richie, who seems to have decided that he  _ does,  _ in fact, want to be annoying today, bikes alongside him, spouting a constant stream of incoherent nonsense and jokes about Eddie’s mom. Eddie hates that he has to hide his fond smile. 

When they reach the street where they usually part ways to get to their individual houses, Richie slows down and calls out a hesitant, “Ed’s?”

“Yeah?” Eddie says, slowing down too.

“Can I come to your place for a bit?” Richie says, gripping his handlebars so tightly his knuckles turn white. “It’s just— My parents.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, far softer than he meant to. “Yeah, of course.” 

“Cool.” Richie says, grins, and launches right back into another your mom joke, and Eddie  _ loves _ him. 

They park their bikes on the lawn and quickly bypass Eddie’s mom who is napping on the couch in the living room — (“Damn,” Richie comments, “I’m not getting lucky tonight then.”) — and make their way to Eddie’s room. 

They hang out for a few hours, sitting on Eddie’s bed, reading comics and cracking jokes and chatting about school and music and the new movie that's playing at the Aladdin, until eventually they circle around to the topic that Eddie has been dreading.

“So, Emily, huh?” Richie says, “I never expected that one. I mean, she’s hot. Why didn’t you tell us? And how long have you liked her? And-” 

“It’s not real, Richie!” Eddie blurts, before he can think too hard about the consequences.

“It’s- What?” Richie halts in his pestering, a look of confusion painting itself on his face. His eyes are wide behind his stupid dorky glasses, his head tilted to the side like a lost puppy. 

“My crush on Emily. It’s not real. I made it up.” Eddie huffs, looking everywhere but Richie.

“What?” Richie repeats, and Eddie distantly thinks that this is possibly the first time he’s witnessed Richie at a loss for words.

“My crush on Emily isn’t real, and my medication isn’t real, and ever since I got that fake tooth when I was seven all I can seem to think about is how I’m not even me anymore.” Eddie doesn’t even pause for breath, releasing all the feelings that have been trapped inside him for so long to Richie Fucking Tozier on his bedroom floor. “And I feel like all I do is lie, and I can’t take it anymore. Seriously, Rich, it’s like nothing I do is genuine and I just-” 

Eddie is cut off by Richie slapping his hand over Eddie’s mouth, muffling his tirade. 

“What the _fuck,_ Richie?!” Eddie exclaims, yanking the offending hand away from his face. “Ew, my mouth was _open_! Do you know how many fucking germs are on the human hand? Three thousand! And it’s you, so probably double that! And- Why are you smiling?” 

“I’m not.” Richie says, clearly smiling. Eddie frowns at him and makes a show of wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Anyways, Spagheds, I do apologise for tainting yer beautiful face with my tarnished hand.” Richie says, morphing into one of his Voices. It’s something between a southern gentleman and a cowboy, and Eddie curses the smile he feels threatening to appear on his face. “I was simply a-tryin’ to stop you spittin nonsense!” 

“It’s not nonsense, Richie! Ingesting bacteria can lead to Hepatitis A!” 

“Not that, dummy.” Richie says. “I meant before that. All that stuff about you not feeling like yourself anymore.”

“Oh.” Eddie says, feeling warmth flow to his cheeks. “Right.”

“Listen,” Richie starts, and he actually sounds serious for once, no stupid voice or anything, and it’s this that momentarily shocks Eddie into actually listening. “Remember when I fell from that tree at the Barrens and landed on Bill’s bike?” 

“God, don’t remind me.” Eddie groans, “Your ankle was so bent out of shape I thought I was going to throw up.” 

“I did throw up!” Richie says cheerfully. “Later, in the emergency room, when they told me that I had to have surgery.” 

“Wait, what?” Eddie says, “You had surgery for that? Why did I not know this?” 

“I didn’t tell you at the time because I knew it’d freak you out.” Richie says, and Eddie nods frantically, sufficiently freaked out. “I’m only telling you now because- Well. Check this out.” 

Richie shuffles closer to Eddie and crosses his legs, and Eddie feels his heart rate pick up from the close proximity. He feels it pick up even more when Richie gently takes his hand, because what the  _ fuck.  _ Richie guides Eddie’s hand to the outside of his ankle and presses the other boys fingertips there. Eddie is confused for a few moments until Richie moves his ankle slightly and Eddie can feel two bumps under the skin  — two small, undeniably unnatural bumps. He almost gags.

“What the fuck?” Eddie voices his thoughts aloud, and Richie chuckles.

“They’re screws.” He explains, and Eddie really does gag this time. 

“Oh, god.” Eddie cringes, moving his hand away like he’s been burnt. Richie lets him move his hand away, but inexplicably keeps their fingers interlaced, letting their still joined hands rest on the bed between them.

“One hundred percent titanium, baby!” Richie cries, before adding, slightly softer: “And zero percent Richie Tozier.” 

“Just because I have screws in my ankle, doesn’t mean I’m not Richie anymore.” He says, squeezing Eddie’s hand in an uncharacteristic display of affection that makes Eddie’s head spin. “And just because you have some junk on your tooth and lie sometimes doesn’t mean you’re not still the same wheezy little hypochondriac who could lecture anyone to death about airborne diseases. Hell, I lie all the time.” 

Something about the tone of Richie’s voice when he says that prompts Eddie to ask: “What kind of things do you lie about, Rich?” 

“I-” Richie glances down at where his hand is still intertwined with Eddie’s like he’s only just noticed the position they’re in and retracts his hand. He takes a moment to seemingly compose himself before continuing. “I still haven’t broken the news to your mom that I’m secretly seeing Stan’s mom on the side.”

Eddie smacks his arm as Richie bursts into a fit of laughter at his own joke, which has no right to be as cute as it is, Eddie thinks. 

“My point is: everyone lies.” Richie says, “But I will say, I don’t understand why you lied about having a crush on Emily..?”

There’s something in Richie’s eyes when he says it, an anticipation, or maybe something akin to hope. Eddie can’t quite decipher it.

“I just said it you guys would quit pestering me.” Eddie says, wincing at how small his voice sounds.

“You could have just told us the truth.” Richie says. “It’s not completely insane to not have a crush.” 

“But that’s not the truth either.” Eddie says before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

“So you… do have a crush?” Richie questions. “Who is it?!”

Eddie remains silent, giving Richie a deadpan look and cocking his eyebrow. 

“Right, right,” Richie says, “the exact thing you were trying to avoid. No pressure! In fact, don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know. I am specifically requesting that you do not tell me.” 

Eddie continues to stare at Richie, watching the other boy bounce up and down in barely concealed curiosity and anticipation. 

“You wanna know so bad, don’t you?” Eddie asks.

“ _ So _ fucking bad.” Richie groans, but then quickly sobers up. “But seriously, if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

Richie says it in a voice so soft, so open, that Eddie for a second considers telling him. Then he envisions the disgusted look on Richie’s face, envisions the inevitable rejection, envisions his life without Richie in it, and quickly changes his mind. 

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Eddie says, and longs for a world where there would be a right time to tell Richie. A world where he could tell Richie at all. 

“It’s okay,” Richie says, “I’ll wait.” 

And something about his voice makes Eddie believe that he will. 

  
  


—

It’s a Thursday when everything comes crashing down. 

From the moment Eddie woke up he knew it was going to be a difficult day. He had dreamt about Richie that night, and the feeling of dream Richie’s hand in his own lingered all morning. He tries to forget about it, and fails miserably. He goes to head downstairs but trips on something before he can reach his bedroom door. It’s one of Richie’s jackets that he had left at Eddie’s the other day when he had come over to borrow a comic book and proceeded to stay for three hours. Eddie picks up and spends far longer that he should wistfully staring at the soft material of the clothing. He tosses it onto his bed, but not before bringing it up to his face and smelling it.  _ Just to check that it’s clean _ , Eddie tells himself,  _ obviously _ .

He finally makes it downstairs, and ends up lying to his mother three times before he’s even had breakfast, just to stop her smothering him. 

By the time he gets to school he already wants to go home, but the thought of going back there and spending the day with his mother is enough to make him head through the school gates. He makes it through all his classes for the day by keeping his head down and quietly doing his work, and trying very hard to not look over at Richie’s desk. 

When lunch rolls around he slaps a smile on his face and joins the other losers in the cafeteria. Everything is normal for the first five minutes  — Richie makes bad jokes, Stan rolls his eyes, Ben nervously compliments Beverly — but then Bill stops mid-story to look over at Eddie.

“L-look,” he says, “It’s Emily.”

Eddie glances in the direction that Bill is looking, and sure enough, there she is in the lunch line. He glances back at Richie to see the other boy looking at him in understanding.

“Oooh!” Beverly whispers excitedly, “You should go talk to her!”

“Guys,” Richie starts. “Do you really think-”

Eddie stands up, and the whole table looks at him in shock. Richie goes silent, looking up at Eddie with wide confused eyes, and Eddie needs to leave. Immediately. 

“I just remembered I left my homework in the math classroom.” He says, and the lie rolls off his tongue so easily he almost feels sick. “I’ll be back soon.”

He hides in the classroom for the entire lunch break. 

The others don’t bring it up in any of their shared classes for the rest of the day, but that's probably due to the fact that Eddie doesn’t give them the chance. He keeps his head down like he had done all morning, working silently and ignoring all conversation around him. He feels eyes on him and when he looks up he catches Richie’s eyes fixed on him. Eddie looks away. 

When Richie comes bounding up to Eddie after school, he thinks the universe might just have something against him.

“Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie cries, “What’s up! Can I come over? I want to steal your comic books again.”

Eddie spins to face Richie, taking in the grin on his face, his stupid bright patterned button up, his slightly crooked glasses. Despite everything, he says yes.

Eddie’s mother squints at them from her seat on her armchair in front of the television when they come through the front door, and Eddie grabs Richie’s wrist and pulls the boy towards his room.

“Richie and I have to work on a project together, Mommy.” He calls, “We won’t be long.” 

Another lie. Eddie swallows the lump on his throat, releases Richie’s wrist, and keeps walking.

“Are you okay, Eds?” Richie asks, as they make their way into Eddie’s room, “You’ve been weird all day.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie says, closing the door behind them.

“Are you sure?” Richie says, face open and concerned.

It’s the sight of Richie’s jacket from this morning still laying crumbled on Eddie’s bed that's the final straw for him.

“I’m just- I’m so tired of lying.” Eddie says, and he can feel tears burning behind his eyes. 

“Lying? About what?” Richie asks.

“ _ Everything. _ ” Eddie says, because it really does feel that way. 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Richie says, so earnestly that Eddie almost believes him. “You can tell me anything.” 

“I can’t though.” Eddie says, his voice cracking on the last word, and yeah, the tears are definitely falling now.

Richie springs into action, rushing forward and grabbing Eddie’s hand in his own. 

“Don’t cry, Eds.” Richie says, sounding close to tears himself. “Please don’t cry, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Richie.” Eddie says, willing him to understand. 

“It is,” Richie insists, cupping Eddies face with his hands and wiping the tears away with his thumbs, “I promise. There’s nothing that you can’t tell-”

“I’m in love with you!” Eddie blurts, screwing his eyes shut immediately afterwards, as if that will make him invisible. 

“... me.” Richie finishes, and his hands fall from Eddies face. Eddie can almost hear the sound of his own heart shattering. 

“Me?” Richie says again, and it such a stupid question that Eddie opens his eyes again just to glare at Richie.

“No, Bill.” Eddie says, “Yes you, you fucking idiot.”

“Okay, first you say you’re in love with me and now you’re calling me an idiot,” Richie says, but his voice is shaking. “Sorta getting mixed messages here, Eds.”

The fact that Richie is still calling him ‘Eds’ is reassuring enough for Eddie to not just turn tail and run away. 

“You’re an idiot and I’m in love with you,” Eddie says. “The two facts aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“You’re-” Richie clears his throat, and it’s only then that Eddie notices that the other boy is shaking slightly. “You’re being serious?” 

“Why would I lie about something like this?” Eddie says.

And then, when Eddie thought this day couldn’t get any weirder, Richie  _ beams _ . Which like, yeah, adorable, but  _ what the fuck _ ?

“You’re being serious!” Richie says, but it’s not a question this time. “This is the best day of my life, oh my god.”

“What?” Eddie says, because  _ what?  _

“Oh, I’ve only been pining for you for years,” Richie says, as if these are words that Eddie can process, “Holy shit, you love me too.”

It’s this that snaps Eddie out of whatever Richie related daze he’d fallen into. 

“Wait,  _ too _ ? What the fuck, Richie?” Eddie squeaks. 

“Yeah, dude, I’ve been in love with you for forever.” Richie says, in a voice that would be casual if he wasn’t trembling. “Kinda freaking out right now, not gonna lie.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says faintly, “I know the feeling.”

Richie slides a hand back to cup Eddie’s cheek, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“Eddie…” Richie says, like a prayer. 

_ It’s not real _ , Eddie’s mind tells him,  _ just like everything else about you. This is fake, fake, fake.  _

But the warmth of Richie’s hand on his cheek is grounding, anchoring him to reality, and for the first time since he can remember, he is able to push those thoughts away. 

And when Richie kisses him, it doesn’t feel fake at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading i love u mwah!!!  
> i suck at proofreading so please lemme know any mistakes!  
> also this is my first reddie fic! the first of many! i love them SO much  
> come yell about them with me on twitter (@toz13r) or tumblr (magiclesson)


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